Make Haste Slowly

by Amy K Rognlie

  I felt sick.

  “Are you saying the baby is yours?”

  “No! It’s not like that.” He jumped up to pace to the door and back. “I’ve never touched her.”

  I blew out my breath. “But you said—”

  “She always comes back to me for help. Out of all of those men,” he grimaced, “she knows in her heart I’m the only one who loves her.”

  “Oh, Houston.” I laid my hand on his. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  He turned away. “I don’t know what to do. She’s getting in deeper and deeper. I fear for her life. And now the baby—”

  “And you’ve gone to the authorities?”

  He laughed. “You think Earl’d do something about it? He’s about the biggest joke for a sheriff I ever saw.”

  “I agree, but—”

  “Besides, you don’t know how this thing works. She has begged me over and over not to tell anyone. She is terrified someone will harm Sherm or the baby—or even me if I tell.”

  “Do you think they would? Or are they only threatening her?”

  “Callie.” He gave me a gentle shake. “Haven’t you watched the news lately? These men are brutal monsters. They treat those girls like cattle, even branding them with tattoos so everyone knows who they belong to. It’s sick.”

  “Yes, but isn’t there some way to get her out of it? Somewhere she could go, like a safe house or something?”

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Believe me, I’ve checked into every place I could find. There’s starting to be more awareness, which means more people helping, but the scope of this thing is staggering. I found one place in Waco where she could maybe go. Run by a Christian couple.”

  “But?”

  “But she has to want to.”

  I hated the hopelessness I heard in his voice. “Then let’s pray that she wants to,” I whispered.

  He shook his head. “I can’t pray about this anymore, Callie. My prayers are bouncing off the ceiling and echoing in my ears.”

  “You can’t lose your faith over this. God is able to—”

  “I’m not sure I had any to begin with. That’s part of the problem.”

  Oh, my dear friend. What could I say to him?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I woke bright and early the next morning to the comforting sound of jingling dog tags. Todd had insisted that Annie, his German Shepherd, spend the night at my house from now on. At least until we figured out what to do about Brandon.

  “No one would dare come in your house with Annie here unless they were extremely stupid,” Todd had said.

  Well, Brandon was stupid, I thought, but I had witnessed him running away from a cat. So maybe he wasn’t stupid enough to confront a German Shepherd. At any rate, I was delighted to have Annie to keep me company. We always had big dogs when I was growing up and lately I was missing having one.

  “Come here, girl,” I called softly. She padded into the room, hopped up onto my bed and settled on top of Aunt Dot’s afghan, as if she had always lived here. I smiled. Pugs were snuggly little dogs, but that’s about as far as they went. Annie, I believed, understood pretty much whatever I said to her.

  “Ready for the chili cook-off today?” I asked her.

  She cocked her head and smiled.

  “Todd will be here soon, okay?”

  She jumped off the bed and raced toward the front door.

  I guess I shouldn’t have told her that quite yet. I lay on my back and stretched, not quite ready to get up. It should be fun spending the day with Todd, but my heart ached anew for Houston. I guess even pastors aren’t immune to the kind of trials that can shake one to the core.

  I reached for my journal and found the page where I had copied down Edward Shillito’s poem, “Jesus of the Scars.” Written in the aftermath of World War I by an English minister, it had resonated deeply with me when I had first read it a couple of years ago.

  If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;

  Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;

  We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,

  We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.

  The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;

  In all the universe we have no place.

  Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?

  Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.

  If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,

  Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;

  We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,

  Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.

  The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;

  They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;

  But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,

  And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

  I would write it out and give it to Houston. Only our God—our Saviour, Jesus Christ—suffered wounds to pay for our sin. Wounds that we inflicted. He alone carried the weight of the terrible grief—the agony and pain of Nicole’s situation magnified billions of times over. He alone understood the weight of Houston’s despair. And He alone could comfort and mend it.

  “Holy Spirit, please be very near to Houston right now,” I prayed. “Have mercy on him, Jesus. Let Your comforting presence surround him. Send ministering angels to sing songs of hope and deliverance to him and to Nicole. God, I pray that You will bring Nicole to her senses in the name of Jesus. Give her a way of escape. Put a protective hedge around her and deliver her from the evil one. Thank You, Lord. Thank You for Your mercy. Thank You. Your will be done, Father God.”

  An hour had slipped by before I knew it, and now Todd would be here any minute. I brushed my hair, then quickly put on a little mascara and my Ohio State baseball cap. I guess the man would see me at my worst sooner rather than later.

  “Hello, Gorgeous.” Todd stood on my front porch, and Annie joyfully launched herself at him.

  “Are you talking to me or her?” I surprised myself by acting normal with him. I thought I would feel more awkward after yesterday’s brief kiss.

  He laughed. “Both. You ready to go?”

  “Yep. Let me put the pugs in the mudroom. Purl’s not been feeling well, and I don’t want to clean up any messes when I get home.”

  “We’ll take Annie with us. I have her leash in the truck.”

  “I’m sure Bubbles will love that,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Bubbles? I’m afraid to ask.”

  I grabbed my purse and locked the door behind me. “Bubbles is Mona and Rob’s teacup poodle. They always take him pretty much everywhere with them when Rob’s home. In one of those little dog stroller things.”

  “Ah.” He made a face.

  I laughed. “I guess we feel the same way about some breeds which shall not be named. Are you hungry?”

  “Always. It’s been years since I’ve been to the chili cook-off.”

  “This will be my first time. Last year I had recently moved here, and I didn’t know anyone.”

  “My dad won it once.” Todd opened the truck door for me. “He made killer chili.”

  This was one of the first times I had heard him mention his dad. “Why was it so special?”

  He chuckled. “He kind of made it up once when we had left-over steak. But it was so good that he started grilling steak on purpose to put in the chili.”

  We pulled into the fairground parking lot.

  “That does sound good. What kind of beans?”

  He gave me a hard look. “Beans do not belong in chili, Callie,” he said sternly.

  “They do where I come from.”

  “But you live in Texas now, darlin’.”

  I smiled at his exaggerated drawl. “You can take the girl out of the north, but you—”

  “Can’t take the north out of the girl,” he finished for me. “Is that true?”

  I hesitated, because the way he was looking at me made me suddenly think he was asking me about s
omething more serious than beans. “I’m making peace with my past, Todd.”

  And as I said it, I realized it was true. At least to the extent of being ready to finally move on from Kevin. “My heart is here now.”

  He reached across the console to squeeze my hand. “I’m glad.”

  Me, too.

  I returned his smile. It was going to be a good day.

  I shaded my eyes, scanning the crowded fairground for Mona and Rob. Rows and rows of trailers and pick-up trucks ended where the lines of vendor booths began.

  “Mona said she thought the cook-off tent would be next to the corncob chucking contest.”

  “Wow, that brings back memories.” Todd chuckled. “My cousin and I always had a rivalry going. When we were in high school, he won two years in a row. But I was ready for him the next year. My record throw was forty-nine feet, five and a half inches.”

  “What? You waited until now to tell me you were a corncob-chucking king?”

  “I am a man of many talents, Callie Erickson.” He tugged at my pathetically short ponytail dangling out of my baseball cap. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Oh, boy. I was liking this man way too much.

  I took Annie’s leash so I had something to do other than stand there staring at him like a love-struck teenager. “Well, I’d better prepare myself then. Pretty soon I’ll find out you are secretly a double-agent. Or a world-famous rodeo star. Or something exciting like that.”

  He raised his dark eyebrows. “One never knows.”

  “Seriously, Todd. I feel like I don’t know that much about you.”

  “That’s why we need to go—”

  “Callie! Todd!”

  We turned to see Mona, ladle in hand, flagging us down from a booth a few yards away. She was in full regalia today—red cowboy boots, a wild chili-print apron, and, I saw as we neared her, chili-shaped earrings under her red cowboy hat.

  “Wow, you couldn’t miss her in a crowd,” Todd murmured.

  I laughed. “Mona never blends into the crowd. But where’s Rob?”

  I looked for the lanky Texan, certain he’d be wearing his signature boots and enormous belt buckle. I’d never seen him wear anything else, even to church.

  “Hey there, Callie. Good to see ya again, Todd.” Rob ambled over from the grill to grip Todd’s hand in a hearty handshake. “It’s been a while.”

  Mona beamed at us. “Three of my favorite people under one tent,” she said, grabbing her phone. “Here. Stand over there by the tortillas and I’ll take your picture. Annie, too.”

  Leave it to Mona to use tortillas as the background. I smiled for her, suddenly conscious of Todd’s arm around my waist as we posed.

  “Does this count as a date?” he whispered in my ear.

  I leaned into him a little, not caring that Mona was watching. “Only if you buy me some fried pickles,” I whispered back.

  Annie’s low growl was my only warning before she leapt toward Bubbles, almost tearing my arm out of the socket in the process.

  “Annie! Down!”

  She dropped to the ground and Bubbles, his bravado deeply encouraged, stood up in his doggy stroller to yip at her.

  Rob roared at the sight, earning him a doleful look from Mona as she bustled over to lift the tiny dog in her arms.

  “I’m sorry, Mona,” Todd said. “I think Annie was surprised. I don’t think she’s ever seen a dog that small before. She probably thought he was a squirrel.”

  “I’m tellin’ her that all the time.” Rob grinned at his wife. “He ain’t a dog, he’s a rodent.”

  Mona covered the dog’s ears. “Don’t listen to those mean men, Bubbly-poo,” she murmured. “They don’t know anything.”

  The men were teasing, but I could tell her feelings were hurt. I reached to pet Bubbles’ head, then drew my hand back. The tiny thing might nip me. “I’m hungry for some of Rob’s world-famous chili. Aren’t you, Todd?”

  I gave him a meaningful look.

  He motioned for Annie to lie down by the lawn chairs. “I’m starving. Do we have to wait until after the judges test it to give our verdict?”

  “No, sir. I’ll dip ya both up some right now. D’ya want cornbread and greens, too?”

  Eww. I hadn’t quite developed a taste for collard greens in my year down here, but I didn’t want to seem rude. “Just a little of each, please.”

  Mona set the feisty little critter back into his dog bed and sank down into a lawn chair across from me. “Bubbles keeps me company so I don’t get so lonely when Rob’s gone. He’s a good dog.”

  I looked into my friend’s eyes as I sat down. “I know. But men like to tease about stuff. You know that.”

  “Yeah.” She looked away then, but I thought I caught a glint of tears in her eyes.

  This had to be about more than Rob making fun of the dog.

  “What’s wrong, Mona?” I glanced toward the men, but they were in deep conversation by the grill. Had Houston told her about his relationship with Nicole? Maybe she was upset about that.

  She twisted her chunky red bracelet around her arm. “I don’t think Rob loves me anymore,” she whispered.

  “What? Why, what happened?”

  She shrugged. “He’s been gone for weeks, Callie. And I’ve been working so hard on my diet. I lost six and a half pounds, and he didn’t even notice.”

  Oh, dear. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, Mona. Sometimes men don’t notice things.”

  “That’s what I told myself,” she said, sniffing. “But then he started talking about all of these new things he’s learning for his job and all of the places he’s been lately and I feel—”

  “Left out?”

  She nodded. “He’s so smart, Callie. And sometimes when he talks about stuff, like even from the Bible, I feel so dumb. But you know what my life was like before I came to the Lord. Sometimes I wish I could change the first half of my life, you know?”

  I did know. I had half-wished the same thing many times. But not really. Because then I would be a different person now. “We all have our own story, Mona.” You wouldn’t be you without all of the struggles you’ve been through.”

  “But maybe I’d be a better me.” She looked over at her husband, tears filling her eyes again. “Rob deserves someone better than me. I’m fat and dumb.”

  “Mona, that’s not true. Rob loves you for who you are.”

  She swiped at her eyes and sat up straighter. “Well, I hope so, ’cause he’s stuck with me.”

  That sounded more like the Mona I knew. “That’s right. And you’re stuck with him. For better or for worse, right?”

  “The only problem is I’m usually the ‘worse,’ and he’s the ‘better,’” she said.

  I shook my head. “Nope, it doesn’t work that way. It takes two to tango.”

  She took a deep breath. “I told him I want to go with him on the road.”

  “Really? What did he say?

  “He’s always wanted me to.”

  Was that the hint of a smile I saw?

  “That could be great for you guys.” I leaned back in my chair, eyeing her. “But somehow, I can’t see you as a trucker woman,” I teased gently. “You’ll need to get a do-rag and a leather vest. You can collect patches for your vest from each state.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to be a biker.”

  “What? You’re not going to be a biker?” Rob bent his tall self over the back of Mona’s chair to give her a peck on the cheek. “I thought that’s what we agreed on, sugar. We’ll sell the house and buy us a couple of Harley’s.”

  Mona reached up to grasp his hand that lay on her shoulder, shaking her head. “What am I going to do with this man?”

  I grinned at the two of them. Rob was still obviously smitten with his wife. “I think he’s a keeper, Mona.”

  Todd sat down next to me, balancing two bowls of chili. “Do you want the one with or without onions on top?”

  “Either. What were yo
u guys talking about for so long?”

  Rob dropped into the seat on the other side of me, stretching out his long legs in front of him. “He was filling me in on your case. I wish you didn’t have to be involved in this.”

  “You and me both.” I held my hair up off my neck. Man, it was hot out here today.

  “Rob was telling me that the truckers have seen a major increase in trafficking within the Texas Triangle.” Todd slathered butter on his cornbread.

  “And especially near here, up and down I-35,” Rob added. “It’s heartbreaking.”

  “Have you had any girls approach you?”

  “Not too often. I’m a pretty old dude.” He stroked his beard. “But you can tell who they are. I wish we could do more to stop it. It rips my heart out to see those young girls—”

  “How young?” Mona asked.

  “Fifteen, sixteen.” He grimaced. “Every once in a while I see one who’s younger than that. I always want to grab her and take her home to her mama.”

  “Couldn’t you? I mean, if the girl wanted to?” I poked my spoon into my chili.

  Todd shook his head. “He could, but those girls are watched. Tracked. His life would be in danger.”

  “And not only in the state where it happened,” Rob added. “Some of these guys have extensive networks that can extend over state boundaries.”

  “We need to get a big ol’ bunch of us to do something about it. We could have a march or…or a fundraiser.” Mona sat up straighter. “We could call the governor. Or sit in front of Earl’s office until he did something.”

  “I think Earl’s already doing more than he should,” Rob muttered.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Todd and I glanced at each other.

  “Why do you say that, Rob?” I asked.

  He cracked his knuckles. “I have my suspicions, Callie. I’ve never trusted the man, and occasionally I hear chatter over the radio that makes me wonder.”

  “Like what?” Todd crumbled a cracker into his bean-less chili.

  “That it’s pretty easy to get away with certain things along a particular stretch of I-35.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.